Spine-tingling coupe a sleeper agent

By Graeme Fletcher, National Post

Originally published: March 14, 2013

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My dad taught me to never judge a man by his umbrella, because it may not be his — the assumption can lead to the wrong conclusion. The same goes with the Audi RS5. Visually, it looks like a mildly pumped-up version of the standard coupe. The fenders bulge a little more and the under-bumper air inlets are larger, but it is all very subtle. In reality, however, the RS5 is a sleeper that can run with the hottest rides on the planet.

Part of the RS5’s overt allure is its truly sweet 4.2-litre naturally aspirated V8. It spins out an effortless 450 horsepower and 316 pound-feet of torque. What really sets it apart in the world of high-horse motivators is the snapping snarl it produces whenever pushed towards redline. The intoxicating siren begins to build at around 3,750 rpm and reaches its spine-tingling crescendo as the tachometer sweeps through 8,250 rpm, which is where the stallions reach full stride. More remarkable is its total lack of temperamentality. So many high-revving engines tend to lug lethargically in the lower part of the rev range — the RS5’s engine is as comfortable loafing along as it is gulping its air in at the top end.

The power is relayed to the road through Audi’s seven-speed twin-clutch transmission and Quattro all-wheel-drive system. The former is a delightful gearbox that feels as though it’s hard-wired to the driver — when left to its own devices, it intuitively seems to know exactly when to downshift, when to hold a gear and when to slide up a cog. Then there are the paddle shifters, which work in any shifter position, and the engine’s ability to rev-match when the driver downshifts to take advantage of the braking effect. It is under these conditions the engine really does sound at its very best and the reason my licence was at jeopardy every time I pushed the start button.

The Quattro system splits the power 40/60 front-to-rear, which gives the RS5 a rear-drive feel. It can, however, send as much as 70% of the motivation forward and up to 85% rearward depending on the demands. At the back end, Audi’s sport differential then adds torque vectoring — it spins the outside wheel up to 10% faster than the inner wheel, which turns the car into the corner with less steering input and understeer. Of course, the monster P275/35R20 tires helped matters enormously, and this in spite of being proper winter wellies.

In the end, the combination gets the power to the pavement minus the fuss that make so many cars a handful — there’s no wheelspin and no torque steer. This traction advantage results in a very quick zero-to-100-kilometres-an-hour run of 4.6 seconds and a blistering 80-to-120-km/h passing time of 3.3 seconds. The fun part, at least when an open autobahn beckons, is that the urgency of the pull does not let up even as the speedometer flashes through 200 km/h … or so I hear.

When pushed through my favourite set of sweeping switchbacks, things got even more entertaining. The RS5’s suspension, which has been lowered by 20 millimetres, is firm without being uncomfortable. This means neither body roll nor the vices it causes ever surface. It just hunkers down and obeys steering input as it hauls into, through and out of a corner with tenacity. In short, it will take larger male appendages than mine to let it rip and push the RS5 through a corner in a full-on four-wheel drift.

The other reason for the RS5’s sleeper-like demeanor is Audi Drive Select and the Comfort, Auto and Dynamic modes the driver can pick. The modes alter the characteristics of the steering, transmission, throttle, sport differential and exhaust tone. For most eventualities, the Auto mode proved to be the right choice, as it reacts to the tone of the drive. About town, the throttle tip-in is softer, the upshifts come earlier and the exhaust note is muted because it is only trumpeting through two of its four exhaust tips. Auto then steps things up should the driver take a deeper stab at the gas pedal, which makes the Comfort mode redundant. Crank the speeds up, and the Dynamic mode comes into its own. The throttle is sharper, the gears are held longer and exhaust thunders.

An option well worth the investment, especially if the driver has a heavier foot (Who? Me?) is the ceramic front brake package. Yes, at $6,000 it is expensive, but given the stopping power and total lack of brake fade, it is well worth the coin — the rotors can withstand temperatures of up to 1,000C.

Inside, the RS5 arrived lavishly attired. The front buckets hug, the thick-rimmed, flat-bottomed steering wheel put some heft in my hands and the driving position was perfect. There is a back seat, but, as with all 2+2s, it is best left to a briefcase or purse — I did consider sitting there, but a saner second thought quashed that impetuous notion.

I fell in love with the S6 tested recently because of its overt sportiness and family-friendly abilities. But, as is true of so many of the things in life, the RS5 is all about unadulterated lust. Simply, it is one of the most visceral cars I have driven. Precious few cars feel as buttoned-down as the RS5, which made its hard-edged tenacity a ride to remember and, should my lottery numbers come in, one to park in my driveway!